


The Most Unkindest Cut Of All

by PatPrecieux



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 01:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19453186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: An accidental experiment and a hair raising experience for Sherlock and John.





	The Most Unkindest Cut Of All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Podfixx(Lockedinjohnlock)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Podfixx%28Lockedinjohnlock%29).



> "This was the most unkindest cut of all."- William Shakespeare. Julius Caesar Act 3, scene 2, 183.
> 
> When something goes wrong, Sherlock has to find a way to set things right. At least, from his point of view. 😉

Sherlock hunched his shoulders like a petulant child as he stomped up and down the aisles at Tesco. It wasn't as if he had meant for it to happen. Yes, it WAS an experiment but not aimed at John. Was it his fault that it had turned out that way? Then as penance John was making him do the shopping? Hateful!

Earlier he had arrived home from Bart's to find Hudders in quite a state and quickly tore up the stairs to find the flat's sitting room and John covered in what seemed to be an endless layer of rainbow glitter. Apparently, Hudders had carried the large amount of post for 221B up to deliver to John not noticing that the bulky cylindrical package had fallen to the floor on the doorstep. When she closed the door as she left, and when did that woman EVER close the confounded door, the tube was smashed triggering the huge spring loaded glitter bomb to explode inward.

Small mercy that John had had his back turned so his face and eyes weren't involved, but the "targeted" side of him and that portion of the room resembled the aftermath of a unicorn exploding. Bad enough that Sherlock was forced to Hoover every speck of glitter from floor, furniture and John's rear- not as fun as one might expect- but as punishment he was exiled to buying milk and tea. Unnecessarily cruel and unusual in his opinion.

As he now made his way home, he thought the worst was over. That was until he came in the door. His jaw dropped as near the floor as was physically possible and he turned white as the milk in the paper sack he held in his hands. 

"John, what have you done? Your...your hair."

"Hello to you too. Obviously, I gave myself a haircut."

"A haircut? A haircut?! You look like you were locked in a dark cupboard fighting with a woodchuck and the woodchuck won!!"

"Oi! Listen drama queen, it's short, yah, but not like it's a military buzz cut. I just took some off the top and the sides. Didn't have any choice, Sherlock, that glitter simply wouldn't come out no matter what I did, and it WILL grow back you know. By the way, in case you're worried, and you don't seem to be, I'm not mad. I do believe that you meant to set that thing off out of doors and it was just an accident. You're not so fond of cleaning that I'd think otherwise. So, let's have a cuppa, order some takeaway and forget all about it. Probably a good thing at any rate, I always did get a trim in the summer."

The rest of the afternoon Sherlock was in a sort of follicular fugue. In an effort to convince his ridiculous boyfriend that there were no hard feelings, John had given him a spectacular blowjob right in front of the hearth as they waited for the Chinese food to be delivered. He thought it odd that Sherlock, usually extremely vocal, was strangely silent. He had no clue that as Three Continents Watson was delivering the goods, Sherlock was preoccupied with the thought that instead of running his fingers through the luxuriant silver gold waves on John's head, he was holding a prickly hedgehog. This was NOT going well.

When they went to bed that night, Sherlock feigned greater enthusiasm as John shagged him vigorously. After all, Sherlock was the one always telling him that he, John Hamish Watson, was the one to put the "Jolly" into the phrase "Jolly Roger". It wouldn't do to have him think Sherlock was turned off by his lover but damn, that horrible haircut simply could not be left to stand.

When John was fully asleep, Sherlock eased from beneath the duvet and went to make a very special call. 

✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈

John had slept the sleep of the innocent and awakened the next morning to a mass of hair tickling his face and neck. Chuckling, he found his voice. "Morning gorgeous. I fancy having you close but I'd rather toast and jam than curls for breakfast, so if you don't mind. Sherlock lift your head, love, Sherlock?" Groping out with his right hand he was startled to discover Sherlock wasn't in the bed, and THAT led to a small moment of panic.

Blindly tearing at whatever was covering his face, Sherlock had bloody well not have been using him as a convenient place to lay a bit of interesting algae or plant growth from the Thames, John stumbled from the bed to face the mirror over the dresser across the room. It was then he began to laugh because clearly he wasn't really awake. He was still asleep and dreaming. How else to explain that looking back at him was his reflection sporting a "mane" of hair that hung in heavy waves to several inches below his shoulders. Well, best to wake himself- enough of this nonsense.

Grabbing a great clump in each hand, John pulled. "Fuck! Ow Oww! Holy Shite!!!" That had hurt like a goddamn punch to the stomach and he was absolutely wide awake. "Sherlock!!!!"

As if he had no idea why John was calling him, Sherlock entered the room with a questioning look and puppy dog eyes. "Did you call me Jawwnnn?"

"I did indeed. WHAT is this?" So saying, John held the long hair away from his cheeks out to the side. 

Sherlock wisely demurred from remarking that it made his blogger resemble a rather peaved Basset Hound. At this juncture, even the World's Only Consulting Detective was smart enough to know when to swallow snark, shut the hell up and choose his words wisely. "It, ah, would appear to be an impressive growth of hair, John. Quite suits you, my dear, if you ask me."

"Ta, but I DIDN'T ask you what you think of it. I asked you what is this?!"

"Don't make me repeat myself, it's tedious. Obviously, your hair experienced a, um, growth spurt overnight."

"A growth spurt? Sherlock, I'm not a fucking teenager with bad skin and a voice that's changing. I don't have growth spurts and if I did they wouldn't be in my damn hair! Now, what did you do? Oh God! Did you concoct some sort of serum or goop that resulted in this? Is it toxic? Do I need to go to A&E? Sherlock?!"

"John calm down. I assure you I neither invented a hair growth product, and I am affronted that you would label any of my scientific endeavors as goop, nor did I experiment on you. Instead I sought the assistance of some outside influences."

"Outside influences? Please tell me Mycroft isn't involved with this?"

Sherlock made his best sucking a lemon face. "No, just no. I would never tell my brother that I was suffering from a severe dip in my libido because my sweetheart mutilated his beautiful hair." Suddenly, realizing what he'd said, Sherlock blushed a dark red that traveled well below the open neck of his bespoke shirt.

"You what? My cutting my hair has shrunk your bits?"

"John! Rude!! I just...your hair...I love..."

John walked over to him as a breeze from the open window made his tresses flow like a model on the runway and Sherlock's bits perked up with renewed interest. He gave the taller man a deep kiss and growled, "I still want my explanation and for the record let me make it clear right now that I will NOT be keeping my hair this long, not even until tomorrow. But that said, no use wasting the opportunity to explore just how this "Romance Novel" hair works between you and me in bed. What say we do one of MY experiments."

✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈✂️💈

After John had dragged his Samson locks over every inch of Sherlock's body and showed he was every bit the match for the biblical king who could knock down great stone buildings, they lay side by side in contented bliss. John knew Sherlock well enough though to discern that he was about to feign napping.

"Oh no you don't brat. You've had your kinky fun, time for my explanation. How did you do this?"

"I told you, John, I didn't do it."

"Stop stalling. HOW was it done?"

"Well, last night I made a call to someone who owed me a favour, a friend of sorts. When I say friend... At any rate, you'd like him. Like you, he's quite the demon behind the wheel of a car. He has a Bentley that is really on fire. He..."

Sherlock! Get on with it!"

"Yes, fine. Well, at any rate he has a colleague that he turns to in these types of situations. He is an angel when it comes to helping people out. You might say..."

"Sherlock!! Spit it out or YOU'LL be the one getting a buzz cut and I'm just the man to do it!"

"You know that is an empty threat, you are too fond of my curls to...John put down that scissors. As I was saying, this colleague is quite a problem solver, a veritable miracle worker as it were. So, I asked for a miracle."

"And I'm to take this as a miracle and let it go at that?"

"Have you any better solution? I challenge you to find any indication of a preparation in the flat that would account for your stunning hair growth. Even if I could invent such a potion, it would hardly result in such remarkable results overnight. Best to simply accept what I have told you."

"Let's say I do, am I to expect further interventions from this 'friend and his colleague' in our lives?"

"Again, I was owed a sizable favour. It has been repaid and unlikely to be repeated. Still, it might be beneficial for introductions all around. There is a bookshop I'd like you to visit. I think you'll find it most fascinating as you will the aforementioned automobile. Yes, definitely. I'll arrange for us to all lunch at the Ritz."

"The Ritz, huh? On the house there for you too?"

"I do occasionally take friends to fine restaurants and foot the bill, John."

"Guess since we're talking miracles I'll give you that one. But it's time to restore my hair to a semblance of normalcy, whatever that is for us, and don't think I don't know YOU know your way around hairstyling. I've seen you cut your own mop."

"Mop?! Are you trying to use your entire yearly quota of insults for me in one day? Mop indeed! But I will be happy to bring back your lovely shining waves, not too long or short and definitely NOT the result of a return encounter with that woodchuck."

"While you do you can tell me more about this demon driver and his angel bookshop owner. Sounds like maybe some new blokes we could socialize with. Don't ask me why but I have a good feeling about this."

Sherlock took one more opportunity to run his fingers through the long long hair and pressed a kiss to the crown of John's head. "I totally agree. Matter of fact I might go so far as to say i predict nothing but Good Omens."

😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇😈😇

**Author's Note:**

> For our beloved Podfixx (nee Lockedinjohnlock) as she spreads her wings to bring her glorious voice to more Johnlock and other fandoms. Good Omens all around. 
> 
> This is a result of my unexpected overreaction to Martin Freeman's new haircut. What can I say, I love a man with longer hair. Apologies for not tagging for Good Omens, but for plot purposes, needs must.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. Let me know in the kudos and comments; my only relief in our flooded, rainy, hot and humid US Midwest. And to my fellow Americans- Happy 4th of July on Thursday. Have a blast.


End file.
